


when you move i move with you

by manusinistra



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, established lipseul, new neighbor yves, random unmotivated pov switches, say no to love triangles yes to polyamory, some angst but i don't write unhappy endings so, yes this is ot3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-09-26 01:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20381818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manusinistra/pseuds/manusinistra
Summary: Lip and Haseul have a good thing going. After Yves moves in next door, it might get even better.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> I think we all knew I was going to write leader line ot3 eventually. Here it is. Thanks to the cc anon who planted this in my mind, and to everyone who yelled at me to sit down and write it. Next part coming in a week or two.

When Lip gets out of the shower, she finds Haseul in the kitchen making coffee. 

This is concerning, because Haseul never gets up before she has to. She wrings the last few minutes of sleep out of each morning with more commitment than she does anything else, including but not limited to: working, eating, hating the pigeons that congregate on their balcony. 

“Why are you up this early,” Lip says, suspicious. She hopes today isn’t the day Haseul gets bodysnatched. There are a lot of meetings she’d have to cancel. 

“It’s new neighbor day!” 

Haseul beams, and Lip’s concern settles. This is weird, but within normal Haseul parameters weird. 

“That’s not a thing.”

“It is now. I’ve declared it.”

“Declaration rejected. Insufficient support, sorry.”

Haseul pouts.

“Oh come on, aren’t you excited we’re trading that creepy dude who always wanted to watch us make out for someone who might be cool? Get with the celebrations! New neighbor day!” 

That’s. A lot of words for before coffee.

Lip is a morning person, but usually she gets a tranquil hour of alone time to caffeinate and clean before dealing with a Haseul this hyper. (And maybe she always misses Haseul by the end of it, because despite attempts not to be she’s a sappy loser, but that’s irrelevant to the discussion at hand).

She reaches around Haseul to grab a mug, pours herself some now ready coffee.

“New neighbor could also be a murderer,” she says.

“That would come up during the background check.”

“Not if they’re really good at it.”

Haseul rolls her eyes, and Lip senses a shift in momentum. Haseul tends to have the upper hand with words, but then it is early and maybe she’s not at full power yet. Lip decides to make the most of this advantage, warming to the task of being annoying:

“What if it’s the next famous serial killer, who breaks records and avoids detection for decades. And twenty years from now, when they finally get caught, we’ll be the unsuspecting neighbors interviewed in one of those true crime shows.”

“Ok, fine. Ruin my fun.”

Lip shifts into an affected TV voice for her encore.

“They always seemed so quiet, so nice and normal.”

“Are you done now?”

“Maybe. You can’t complain though, you started it.”

“I have many regrets.” 

Haseul is smiling, eyes bright with amusement, and Lip grins back at her. The world is always better when Haseul smiles. 

“Hey, idea,” Lip says, sidling a step closer. “If you kiss me you won’t have to listen anymore.”

Heat creeps up her neck: it’s embarrassing to ask, even now, years in, but worth it for the way Haseul’s smile grows. And for the way she comes over, brushes hair out of Lip’s face.

Kisses her, soft shifting into insistent just how Lip likes. 

;;

When Lip goes off to work, Haseul is left alone with the apartment. 

Which means, of course, that she throws herself into New Neighbor Day.

In theory, she has her own work to do – writing songs and teaching voice lessons, the latter less for money than to give her time structure – but her next deadline is a month away and there are no students until the afternoon. 

So, she spends all morning making cookies. First chocolate chip, then dairy free because what if new neighbor has allergies, then gluten free because once Haseul starts on something she can perhaps get carried away covering all the bases.

Cookies of any sort might seem like an overreaction, but old neighbor really was creepy. Haseul emphatically did not enjoy being the lesbian living next to that dude who thinks lesbianism is a phase he can talk you out of. Anyone who isn’t him deserves a celebration.

Besides, Haseul likes people. She’s curious about who new neighbor will be – what they’re into, whether they might be a friend. Since she works from the apartment as often as not, she’s got a vested interest in the person she’s about to share a wall with. 

So she’s listening hard for telltale steps to trail down the hall. By the time she hears them, the kitchen is blazing and arrayed with more cookies than a human could eat in a week. 

She sprints over to the entryway to be sure and yep, there goes the door next door swinging open and closed. 

New neighbor is here. 

Adrenaline shoots through Haseul. She gets halfway out of the apartment before she remembers the cookies, runs back to the kitchen to pile handfuls onto a plate. Then, realizing she should maybe let new neighbor breathe before accosting them with welcome, she forces herself to scroll through social media. 

But not for too long; she’s too excited. Soon she’s stepping out into the hallway, which looks brighter now that she doesn’t have to share it with that creepy guy. 

She knocks three times on the neighboring door.

Or that’s her plan. The last knock falters in the execution, because she hears a truly impressive string of profanity bleeding through from inside. 

Not quite what she was expecting there. It’s a female voice, so maybe that’s still a win?

New neighbor gets louder, presumably nearing the door, and Haseul starts getting whole sentences in addition to four letter words: 

“What the fuck do you mean, you don’t know where my furniture is. You're moving it. That’s your fucking job, literally that’s it.” 

The door opens with that last pronouncement. Instead of white painted wood, Haseul is looking (up) at a beautiful woman who exudes rage from every pore.

“I have to go,” the woman says, looking at Haseul, speaking to whoever’s on the other end of her airpods. Haseul is glad she’s not that person; she’s already fighting down the urge to fetal position at the anger in dark brown eyes. “If you can’t locate my belongings in 24 hours you’ll hear from my lawyer.” 

Haseul glances past her to see a very empty apartment. There are zero things in it, beyond the woman herself. 

Who ends the call.

“Um. Hi,” Haseul says.

The woman scans her from head to toe, eyes narrowing.

“You don’t look like you’re here to hook up my internet, and it’s been a really shitty day so I don’t have the mental space to care about whatever else you want. Sorry, bye.”

“Ibroughtyoucookies.”

It comes out in one string of sound, Haseul rushing to get through before the door slams in her face.

The woman frowns in incomprehension, but as Haseul brandishes the platter of baked goods she stops closing the door. Reopens it far enough to lean against the jamb.

(And, oh. She has a good lean. Most of Haseul is busy being intimidated, but part of her memorizes it so she can tell Lip all the details later. They have a running list of best leans – what else is lesbian culture – and this one might hit the top of the “irl” category.) 

Clearing her throat, Haseul tries again. 

“I brought you cookies? I’m your neighbor? I just wanted to say hi?”

She’d like everything to stop leaving her mouth as a question, but faced with an intense, not-quite-hostile-but-definitely-not-welcoming stare she’s lost all control over her intonation. 

At least the words are understandable this time. Small victories are still victories.

“I didn’t know anyone did this outside of movies,” the woman says.

Haseul laughs. It comes out awkward and shrill, and the woman raises an eyebrow.

Haseul flinches internally. What is wrong with her. She’s supposed to be great at meeting new people, and she waits for confidence to find her, the familiar rush of words itching to spill from her mouth. 

The woman taps her foot, patience eroding. 

Somehow Haseul can’t think of a single thing to say. 

Maybe it’s that new neighbor is gorgeous, but there’s no shortage of beautiful people in Haseul’s world. She composes for idols, most of her students want to be idols, and she lives with one of the most attractive women she’s ever met (though she can forget that when Lip’s stuffing a whole piece of pizza into her mouth at once). 

Eventually Haseul gives up on substantive connection, shifting the goalposts to getting away alive. 

“I just thought it might be nice. Anyway, I’ll let you get back to…that. I’m Haseul. Right next door, if you need anything.” 

“Thank you. I’m Yves.”

Yves doesn’t offer a hand, busy taking the cookies, but her lips quirk up. She had been frowning so hard they only get back to neutral. Given where they started, though, Haseul will take it. 

Back in her apartment, the rush of questions she could’ve asked hits Haseul all at once. Where did you move from, what do you do, why are you yelling on the phone in the middle of an empty apartment. Relatedly: do you need a place to sleep tonight? 

Yves is clearly having a terrible day, and Haseul is disappointed in herself for not doing something to fix it. It’s not very neighborly of her, and salvaging terrible days is kind of her specialty. Comes with being the mom friend (and working with ambitious, high-strung girls for a living). 

She thinks about it all through her afternoon lessons, in part because Yves’ yelling comes through the wall. 

“HOW CAN YOU LOSE AN ENTIRE TRUCK,” interrupts Haseul’s demonstration of proper breath support.

Her student, Gowon, nearly jumps out of her seat. (Gowon’s voice is fascinating if not that strong; the first time she sang Haseul thought it had to be autotuned.) 

“We have a new neighbor,” Haseul says by way of explanation.

“She sounds…forceful.” 

“Indeed.”

The building has solid soundproofing – Haseul made sure before they moved in, because being a vocal teacher means you get run out with pitchforks otherwise – so when Yves’ voice makes it through again she’s impressed, professionally speaking. New neighbor has some lungs. 

Gowon is starting to look scared. 

“Let’s try it with a backtrack,” Haseul says, plugging in her loudest speaker.

;;

Yves would like to punch something.

This move would be smooth, her company said. Quick, easy, frictionless.

She paid extra to ensure those adjectives, so she’s extra annoyed none of them are turning out to be true. 

The movers promised her things would arrive on this exact day, within a two-hour window. That – Yves checks the time – ended four hours ago. 

Now, no one can verify that her belongings exist in this dimension, let alone tell her when they’ll arrive. In an age of ubiquitous delivery and door to door tracking, this level of incompetence is honestly an achievement. 

Yves needs a drink. Or five. 

She’d like to have them at home, because she was exhausted even before her things failed to appear. It’s been more than 24 hours since she slept, thanks to a redeye from New York with a wailing baby in the next row, and at this point she’s alternating between vibrating with rage-induced energy and wanting to sleep for a thousand years.

Not a great combo for human interaction.

As that woman – her neighbor – found out.

Yves meant to be nicer, but it’s hard to switch from yelling at impervious customer service reps into conversing like a sane human who’d like to have friends. (Or more – Haseul was cute, in a nervous, excitable way. Yves was too busy with her anger to pursue it, but doesn’t mean she didn’t notice.)

Except she can’t drink at home, because all her furniture is in a fucking black hole impervious to Google Maps. 

When she gets tired of pacing back and forth across her empty apartment, she goes to sit on the steps outside her new building. It’s a relief to stop standing; only as her body relaxes does Yves realize how tense she’s been. 

People walk by, heading home from work, hurrying to happy families and furnished homes. 

Yves hates all of them.

She doesn’t even have her cat to pet, because Puppycat gets anxious around men and loud noises so she's staying with a friend until Yves gets moved in. Which may take forever now, instead of the meticulously planned three days she’s budgeted for it. 

Yves puts her face in her hands, rubbing at throbbing temples. 

“Hey, are you ok?”

“No,” Yves says to the ground.

She looks up to see a blonde in business casual, laptop case slung over her shoulder. She’s pretty, and her clothes lean menswear enough that Yves’ gaydar tingles. 

Maybe this is her chance to redeem herself. The blonde already started a conversation when she didn't have to, so Yves figures she's got a decent shot.

“Everything has gone wrong today,” Yves starts. “But maybe you’d like to get a drink? I bet you’d make my day better.”

The woman shifts awkwardly, which means Yves is going to get turned down. 

Great. Maybe this is just how she lives now, bouncing from one train wreck to the next. 

Yves tries to guess why the blonde is saying no. She doesn’t seem outright repulsed by the idea – that’s discomfort hunching her shoulders, not anger – and from the rainbow pin on her bag Yves is betting she’s not straight. So Yves could just be the wrong type, or:

“Hey baby,” a voice says, and Yves turns to see Haseul coming out of the lobby. 

The blonde lights up at the sight of her, eyes going soft. 

Oh no, Yves thinks. This was a grave mistake. 

Maybe they’re just friends. It could be true; girls throw baby around a lot these days.

Yves tries to believe it as Haseul comes down the stairs, swings an arm around the blonde’s waist. But then the blonde turns to kiss Haseul’s cheek, and they share a look that can only mean they’re together and serious about it. 

Yves knows because she’s never looked at anyone like that. She swallows, stomach turning, jealousy mixed with disappointment. 

Of course the two beautiful women in her building would already be dating each other. 

“I see you’ve met our new neighbor,” Haseul says, forcing Yves to deal with the fact that this nightmare is still happening.

“Was just about to.” The blonde looks back at Yves, eyes cautious. “I’m Lip. Welcome to the building.”

“Has your stuff shown up yet?” Haseul says to Yves. Blissfully unaware that Yves was just hitting on the person she lives with. “I could hear you arguing with movers all afternoon, and if not you’re welcome to sleep on our couch tonight. Much more comfortable than the floor.”

“Um. I don’t want to intrude?”

Yves catches Lip's eye by accident. Tries to communicate, _I’m sorry I’ll leave you alone I promise_.

“Nonsense!” Haseul says. “It’d be our pleasure!” 

She beams, elbowing Lip in the ribs until she nods too.

“Yeah, offer’s open. If you want it.”

Yves thinks about the very nice, very uncomfortable hardwood that is her other option. She's tempted to say no, but her back will make her pay for the next month if she tries to sleep on the floor. Being able to bend over is worth the weirdness, probably.

“Ok, sure. Thank you both.”

;;

So far, Lip is unimpressed with New Neighbor Day.

It’s led to an uncomfortably warm apartment, courtesy of Haseul’s baking spree, and a night squashed three on the couch watching movies with a stranger who just asked her out.

(Lip is a little bit impressed by Yves’ boldness. More concerned that she didn’t get the chance to shoot her down.)

Haseul is too kind for her own good, is the real problem. Inviting in strays is exactly her MO, and it’s something Lip loves about her, usually, the generosity extended out in every direction. But usually she’d also be making out with Haseul by now, seeing how far she can get unbuttoning Haseul’s flannel before Haseul flips her over and presses her down into the couch. 

Which is not happening tonight, given Yves sitting stiff on Lip’s other side. Lip is perhaps grumpy about it.

When Haseul excuses herself to the bathroom, Lip looks over at Yves. Yves slides as far away as she can on the couch, creating a good six inches of space between them. 

The movement makes Lip warm to her: if Yves was going to be a problem, it’d happen now. Yves must know that too, and the way she’s crowding into the corner to signal her lack of intentions – it’s sweet, if a little clumsy. She seemed suave at first, but maybe she’s just a mess held together by tailored suit pants.

Lip decides to test her a little. 

She crosses her legs, taking up more space, and Yves leans away so fast the couch cracks.

“You ok,” Lip says.

“I'm great.”

Yves shifts another inch away. She’s basically hugging the arm rest now, so Lip takes pity on her.

“It’s fine, by the way. What you asked earlier. Though my answer is no, for obvious reasons.”

“I’d never have asked, if I’d known. I don’t do that.”

“I can tell.”

Yves relaxes a fraction. There’s still a purposeful space between them, but it no longer feels like Lip has a deadly contagion that Yves is trying to escape.

When Haseul returns, they finish off the movie then watch another. At that point Yves is nodding off into the couch pillows, so they leave her with blankets and a “good night.”

“Tell me she isn’t better than the last guy,” Haseul says, voice garbled by her tooth brush. She disappears back into the bathroom before Lip can answer, which leaves Lip with a dilemma.

Does she tell Haseul about what happened earlier? It’s a small thing and she shut it down, so maybe it’s not worth mentioning? But then if she doesn’t mention it, does she make it into something bigger?

She doesn’t want there to be things between her and Haseul, so as they’re getting into bed, Lip clears her throat. 

“Hey, um. Before you came outside. I think Yves was hitting on me?”

Haseul high fives her. 

“Hey, you’ve still got it!”

“You’re not mad?”

“Babe, if I freaked out every time someone hit on you I wouldn’t have time to do anything else. You’re gorgeous. And it’s not like you ever encourage them, so why would I be mad?”

Lip leans over to kiss her.

“You know that you’re the only one I need, right?”

“I do know. And I like hearing it anyway.”


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yves adjusts, Haseul schemes, and Lip gets stuck on a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to the first part of this was crazy (and crazy flattering) - I guess a lot of people have been waiting for a leader line fic. Hope this chapter holds up, and expect the third in a few weeks.

Yves wakes up to the sound of someone moving.

It’s a person, not her cat – she can tell even with her eyes closed. There’s a distinctive quality to feline mischief, and she’s gotten good at discerning by sound alone whether Puppycat is shredding important documents or ripping open the treat bag or gleefully pulling clothes out of her drawer. 

This isn’t any of those things. 

Yves shakes off the remnants of sleep, opens her eyes to an unfamiliar living room. 

Where is she, and why is another person here? Did she pick someone up? Did someone pick her up? 

She raises her head cautiously, looking towards the source of the sound.

Lip is in the kitchen, yawning as she makes coffee. She’s dressed in a tank top and pajama pants, and Yves takes in the broadness of her shoulders, the smooth muscle of her back. Then looks away – given yesterday, Lip soft in sleep clothes feels like intruding on a world she shouldn’t get to see. 

Which reminds her. Yesterday was a mess.

It all comes back in a rush: her things disappearing, her glaring at one neighbor and hitting on the other. Talk about a memorable first impression.

Embarrassment has Yves ducking down into the blankets, but after a minute she sighs. These people were kind enough to give her a couch to crash on even after…that. She should be mature enough to face them.

So she rolls into a sitting position and stretches, shoulder cracking. Her back isn’t thrilled, but it’s way better than it would be if she’d attempted the floor. 

“Do you drink coffee,” Lip says, and Yves jumps because the voice is right at her elbow. When did Lip have the chance to get across this giant open concept expanse of a room. 

Yves forces herself to smile, running a hand through her hair. Fights down a momentary panic attack at the rats’ nest it has become. 

(If she’s going to be in this situation, she could at least look her best. It’s insulting, really, to be laid low in so many ways at once.)

“I do. Black.”

Lip’s nose crinkles in disgust.

“Of course you’re one of those ‘I’m too cool for things that actually taste good’ people.”

“…sorry?”

Lip gets Yves coffee despite the rebuke, then sits on the other end of the couch with a mug of her own. 

It’s weird, being amid disheveled blankets with someone who didn’t help her do the disheveling. Yves feels like a thief, stealing away with another level of intimate she didn’t earn.

She focuses on the coffee in her hands because that feels safe. Coffee is everywhere, after all – shared between coworkers and casual acquaintances, witness to countless boring meetings and first not-quite-dates. 

So, when her eyes gravitate to Lip, she makes sure they land on Lip’s mug. And then Yves gets legitimately concerned, because the liquid is so pale it looks like milk with a splash of coffee. Why would anyone drink that. 

Yves takes a sip of her own – it’s good and strong, the first jolt of caffeine sharpening her senses. Making her realize she shouldn’t have taken it, because now she can’t leave: she has to sit here and feel awkward until she finishes. 

“Did you sleep ok,” Lip says, apparently determined to make small talk. 

“Yeah. Thanks again, for the place to crash.”

Lip shrugs.

“Haseul likes helping. You made her week already.”

It’s said with surface level exasperation, but all of Lip gets softer at the mention of Haseul. Yves swallows, wondering what it’s like to love someone so much that just the thought of them transforms you. 

“Well. Tell her thanks for me, too.”

Lip nods, and they sit together sipping coffee. It gets less uncomfortable, or maybe Yves has just had so much discomfort in the past 24 hours that she’s ceased to register it. This is just her baseline now, blinding interpersonal embarrassment. 

She asks a few questions about the building to ward off silence – whether management actually fixes things, whether anyone’s crazy or loud. Lip answers, voice low and steady, and the rhythm of it lulls Yves back toward sleep. 

Soon she’s yawning, fighting not to tip over. 

“You should get more rest,” Lip says.

She gives Yves a smile. It’s genuine, no hint of distrust, and guilt surges in Yves because her half-asleep mind is thinking: it’d be so easy to lean over and kiss that smile. 

But there’s already someone who gets to do that. And it’s definitely not Yves. 

Her sleep debt aligns with her desire not to deal, so she sinks back into unconsciousness. When she comes to again, there’s a different person sitting at the kitchen island.

Haseul is there, silent and focused, giant headphones sealing her into a circuit with her computer. Her silence is a surprise – is interesting, since so far she’s radiated endless loud energy. 

(For example, she talked all through the movie last night. Lip tried to shush her but then got drawn into a very involved argument about whether a bus exploding mid-flip was realistic. Yves could only listen, a little amused but mostly befuddled.)

Yves squints at the computer screen – it looks like music of some sort, and she has a moment of nostalgia for the time before she chose security over a life of extravagant dreams. 

Then Haseul turns around, catches her looking. 

Yves really needs to get better about getting caught. 

“Oh, you’re up! I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

Her hair is wet from the shower, and she’s wearing an oversized t-shirt that dwarfs her small frame. It’s achingly domestic and undeniably cute, and Yves thinks that if she’s going to have an inconvenient attraction to her neighbors, it could at least pick one of them to focus on. 

“No, you’re fine. I should get going anyway. Lots to do.”

Haseul looks disappointed for a second, but then she brightens.

“Good luck! And let me know if I can help at all.”

“I will,” Yves says, thinking the exact opposite. She should be able to get a new mattress delivered today, if nothing else, and then she can start constructing her own life instead of getting in between a happy couple.

;;

After that morning, Lip doesn’t see Yves for a while.

Well, technically Lip sees her: they cross paths for scant seconds, when Yves is dragging boxes into her apartment or checking mail in the lobby. Yves is polite, always smiles and says hello, but there’s an edge of terseness to her demeanor that suggests she wants to forget how they met.

Or maybe forget that they met full stop.

Fair enough, Lip thinks. She’d probably do the same, in that position.

And Lip’s fine with it. She assumes Yves will fade into the background, become a funny story Haseul brings up sometimes. She can almost hear it already: “Hey, remember when that neighbor hit on you? I wonder what happened to her.”

That’s the way it goes with Yves for a while. They’re like parallel lines, sharing scenery but never coming together. 

Then, Haseul runs out of eggs. 

“I just need one more,” Haseul says, pouting at the chaos of a would-be cake. 

“Ok, I can make it to the store in 10 minutes.”

“Or you could go next door in 10 seconds.”

Lip gives Haseul a look. She can tell what’s happening here – Haseul also feels Yves slipping away and wants to pull her back, because Haseul can never resist collecting people. 

Lip has misgivings but goes anyway; it’s not like she ever manages to say no to Haseul.

Yves opens the door with a cat in her arms and the widest smile Lip’s ever seen.

Maybe it’s that Lip is only acquainted with disgruntled Yves, but this is like a whole different person. She seems younger, less corporate shark and more the pretty girl from high school you never found the courage to make a play for.

“You seem happy,” Lip says, without meaning to say it. 

“I got my cat back today.”

Yves’ smile gets even wider, her two front teeth poking out. So, ok. Pretty isn’t a strong enough word for what Yves is right now. 

Later, Lip will blame that smile for saying “cats are great” instead of “I’m so allergic I can feel my throat closing.”

“Aren’t they? I don’t know what I’d do without mine.” Yves pauses. “Did you need something?”

“Oh, right. Can I borrow an egg? Or have, I guess, you wouldn’t get it back." Lip feels herself starting to ramble but is powerless to stop. "Haseul is in the middle of baking something with a name I can’t pronounce, and there’s a tragic egg shortage.”

“Tragic, huh.”

Lip nods.

“Devastating even.”

“Well we can’t have that. Give me a minute.”

Lip returns home victorious, egg in hand. Haseul reaches for it but Lip lets go too soon, and it smashes to pieces on the tile floor.

“I’m not going back over there,” Lip says.

She expects complaints, but Haseul just shrugs.

“That’s fine.” 

Haseul pulls a fresh carton of eggs out of the fridge. Reveals not just one but a half dozen remaining, and Lip realizes this was all a plot. To what effect, she’s not sure – it’s best to stay out of Haseul’s schemes for as long as you can.

She shakes her head at an unrepentant Haseul.

“You’re unbelievable.” 

“Thank you, I know.”

Lip waits for chaos to rain down upon her, since that’s the usual result of Haseul being up to something. Things are quiet for a month or so, but then comes a fateful knock at the door.

Yves is there, looking distressed.

“Did you hear any weird noises from my apartment over the past few days?”

“Now that I’m thinking about it,” Haseul says, appearing at Lip’s shoulder. “There was some yowling and banging.”

Yves’ face crumples.

“What happened?”

“I paid someone to take care of my cat but I don’t think they ever showed up. She seemed so hungry and traumatized and I have to fly out again tomorrow but after this I can’t trust them and-”

“We can feed the cat,” Lip finds herself saying. Despite her allergies, despite Haseul’s primal fear of all creatures kept as pets. Don't ask her why; she doesn’t know what’s come over her, either. 

Yves looks reluctant.

“Are you sure? This is no notice and you must be busy.”

“We can,” Haseul says, game as always, though Lip can feel the side-eye she’s getting right now.

This is going to be a mess, Lip knows. And worst of all, she can’t even blame this one on Haseul. 

(Well, maybe – if Haseul hadn’t made her go get an egg, she wouldn’t have met Yves’ cat, and Yves wouldn’t be here now causing this situation.

So, there you go. It’s all Haseul’s fault.)

;;

Haseul is the one who does the actual feeding.

Lip tries, but she breaks out in hives two feet into Yves’ apartment. Haseul enjoys watching her suffer but not in the real medical emergency kind of way, so at that point she feels compelled to take over.

The cat is shy, Yves said before she left. Probably won’t even come out while a stranger is in the apartment.

Haseul prays to every god she can think of for that to hold true, but as she edges into the living room there the cat is. 

Sitting, waiting. Watching Haseul with glowing gold eyes, like a maleficent spirit just about to curse her. 

Haseul skirts around it, hugging the wall. Maybe if she maintains distance she’ll get out alive. 

She’s breathing hard, fumbling through the cabinet when the unthinkable happens: the cat rubs against her leg. 

“Please don’t hex me,” Haseul whispers, distraught. 

The cat starts purring. Juts its head into her ankle.

Haseul throws food into the bowl with shaking hands, then sprints outside faster than she’s ever run before.

“That could’ve been worse,” she tells Lip.

When Yves gets back, she’s so thrilled that her demon creature is happy and full and non-traumatized that she insists on taking Haseul and Lip out for a drink.

“You don’t have to,” Lip says, though Haseul thinks someone owes her a lot of alcohol for that experience. 

“I insist,” Yves says, eyes flickering between them.

They go to the dive bar down the block and it’s surprisingly fun. Haseul expects Yves to be stiff and quiet, but with half a drink in her she starts spinning stories about the hilariously incompetent people who contract her company. Though Haseul has no idea what economic consulting involves, Yves is sharp enough in her observations it doesn’t matter – she’s fun to listen to, gesturing wildly on one side of the booth while Haseul holds Lip’s hand on the other. 

Lip’s enjoying herself too, Haseul can tell. That is also a nice surprise, since it’s rare to find non-coupled friends they both enjoy.

One round turns into three, and before Haseul knows it she’s past tipsy and to the point where she's ready to make bad decisions.

In other words, she's ready to play darts. 

Haseul loves darts. She’s also terrible at them, though after a few glasses of sangria she stops caring.

“Maybe let’s not send bystanders to the hospital tonight,” Lip says, trying to grab the sharp things from her hand.

But sangria also makes Haseul stubborn. She wriggles to shield her ammo, and Lip gets elbowed in three different places before giving up. 

“I’m not helping if you hit someone again,” Lip says, heading for the bar.

“I won’t,” Haseul calls after her, knowing odds are 50/50 that’ll end up a lie.

With two darts left, Haseul hasn’t hit anyone. She also hasn’t hit anything resembling the target.

Scrunching her face in concentration, Haseul really tries with this one. Lines it up, practices the motion.

Misses the board entirely.

“Do you want help?”

She turns to find Yves watching, smirking a little, leaning against one of the exposed beams that mark this as the trendy kind of dive. 

“Are you any good?”

“Better than that.”

Haseul glares, which draws a chuckle out of Yves. 

She comes over to arrange Haseul’s arm, but she’s so focused on respecting Haseul’s space that she’s not doing anything useful.

“If you’re going to show me, really show me.”

Yves stops. Then moves closer, so that she’s hovering behind Haseul, guiding her into position with her whole body.

“Is this real enough?”

The words whisper into Haseul’s ear, and for a second the immediacy of Yves eclipses everything else. She forgets about Lip, forgets that a world exists beyond Yves’ body and the inch of space that somehow makes her more tempting than actual touch.

It’s the first time in a long time Haseul’s felt attraction to someone who's not her girlfriend. She's seen pretty people, of course, but they've never been realistic prospects. (Like: she fantasizes about Irene from Red Velvet, not the actual people populating her actual life.)

Except there Yves is, close and real, and the sharp, unexpected heat of it sears through her. 

Then the spell is broken and she’s back to herself, and Yves is just a pretty girl trying to teach her how to throw darts.

“Just like that,” Yves is saying. Her hand holds Haseul’s through the release. “Bullseye.”

;;

It turns into a habit for Yves, hanging out with Lip and Haseul.

In some ways it makes sense – it’s not like things could get more awkward than the first day, so she might as well benefit from having lived through that.

Besides, it’s easy to walk down the hall and knock on their door whenever she’s bored or lonely. Her coworkers are nice enough, but when she has Lip and Haseul at the ready it doesn’t seem worth the extra effort of getting to know other people beyond functional work friends. Forming attachments is a lot of time and energy for uncertain reward, especially when the company might move her again in 6 months.

She’d use different movers next time, that’s for sure.

The funny thing is, Yves isn’t sure she likes her neighbors.

She’s grateful to Lip and Haseul, of course. They’ve been so kind, offering a couch to sleep on and now taking care of her cat, and she’s so far in their debt she can’t even imagine a way to repay it. 

They don’t seem to expect her to, so maybe they’re just the sort of people who take in recently relocated strays whose furniture got stuck in the desert on a regular basis. 

(She got her furniture back, by the way. After a week and so much yelling.)

That doesn’t mean that she likes them, though. They’re not bad people (see above) but being around a couple that’s that coupley is kind of a lot. They’re so obviously steeped in each other, with years of love and care and history written into the smallest interaction.

Which is not the most fun to be around, fresh out of another failed relationship. 

(Yves had a girlfriend, before she moved. And then she agreed to move. And then she stopped having a girlfriend.)

So, to recap, Lip and Haseul are likeable enough but Lip-and-Haseul is a reminder of everything Yves has never managed to have. A steady relationship, a partner who knows you better than anyone else. 

She’s always been a bit of a loner. Friends she has, but it’s hard to let them in past a certain point. That goes double for relationships, and eventually girls get sick of it, or she gets sick of listening to them complain about her unavailability.

So, yeah. Befriending the world’s happiest couple has its downsides. 

There’s also the niggling fact of her attraction, which isn’t going away. 

Not that she’s going to do anything about it. She’s made her share of questionable decisions, but level 10 homewrecking is something else entirely. 

Just as important, she’s starting to realize that she could never pick one over the other with Lip and Haseul. She’d thought that maybe her crush would settle on a target, but the more time she spends with them the clearer it is: her initial interest was just because they’re both hot, but whatever it’s becoming is about the way they are together. 

She watches them bicker until they crack each other up and thinks maybe she does believe in love. Watching them, it’s hard not to.

And she can’t help but imagine sometimes how nice it would be. If their together included her, too.


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lip worries, Yves is confused, and Haseul decides to take the leap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some mentions of sex but nothing explicit. Sorry this took a while - work got crazy, and (surprising no one) the fic got more involved than my initial plan. Next part coming...honestly idk, but hopefully it won't take too long.

Haseul knows Lip. 

They’ve lived together for years, dated longer than that, and time isn’t even the most important measure – it’s more telling that Haseul can decipher every one of Lip’s expressions, including five variations on disgruntled eyebrows.

Which means there’s not much left to shock in everyday life with Lip. They’re worn to fit the shape of each other, and that might sound boring but Haseul adores it: she finds comfort in knowing exactly when Lip will get home each day, how she’ll smile sheepishly when Haseul opens the door (she’s always carrying too many things to find her own keys) and melt against Haseul in an _I missed you_ kiss.

Lip is Haseul’s anchor, the only part of the world that always makes sense. 

Still, sometimes she does things Haseul doesn’t expect.

Like on a lazy Saturday morning, when they’re heading out to a café. Lip locks up, and Haseul meanders down the hall waiting for her to catch up. Takes a minute to realize that isn’t happening. 

When she looks back, Lip is staring down Yves’ door.

“Should we invite her?” Lip says, in a tone that means she wants to.

Haseul doesn’t reply, surprised into silence. She can’t remember the last time Lip went out of her way to make an invitation. Not that Lip is antisocial: she gets along well with everyone, but she tends to let other people make the effort. In friendship as in many things, Lip is pursued not pursuer. 

Except, apparently, with Yves. 

This is the second time Lip’s made an exception for her. Haseul figured the first – with the cat – was just an aberration, but two starts to build a pattern. 

Something sounds in Haseul mind. It’s not a warning exactly, she’s not sure this is danger, but she marks down the moment anyway. It’s a break in character, and those are worth noticing. 

Just in case.

“Sure,” Haseul says, after a pause. It’s not like she objects: _befriend the neighbor_ was her plan even before Lip got on board. 

So Lip knocks and Yves joins them. She just got back from another trip, which Haseul knows because she was again on cat duty (the creature tried to climb her leg this time; that ended badly for both of them). 

All the travel seems to be catching up to Yves – she’s wearing a baggy sweatshirt and glasses, rubbing at her face like she’s trying to will herself into consciousness. 

It’s a far cry from going-to-the-bar Yves, swagger replaced with stumbling, half-awake steps. The transformation makes Haseul wonder what other facets lie undiscovered in her, how else she might change with context.

Whether she’ll provoke other weird reactions in Haseul. 

Seeing Yves again, the memory comes back: that night at the bar when Haseul was a little drunk and a little too interested in Yves. It seems far away now, weightless as a mirage, but it reminds her Lip isn’t the only one making exceptions. 

At the café, Yves buys everyone coffee as Haseul and Lip settle into their favorite table. 

While Lip scrolls through Twitter, Haseul thinks. She watches Yves up at the counter and scours herself for traces of attraction. Nothing obvious surfaces: at the moment, she’s just worried about her caffeine slipping from Yves’ sleep-clumsy hands. 

“Your drink is ridiculous,” Yves says when she gets to them, handing Haseul coffee and Lip a cup that’s mostly whipped cream.

“What do you mean,” Lip says, offended, as Haseul snorts into her hand.

Yves is absolutely correct, for the record. It’s a wonder Lip hasn’t gotten diabetes yet, given the quantity of liquid sugar she consumes.

“I wouldn’t be able to do this with real coffee,” Yves says. She sticks her finger into the drink and paints a foamy stripe across Lip’s cheek. Then realizes what she’s done, eyes going wide. Whipped cream still dripping off her hand. “Oh shit I’m sorry, I can’t believe I did that.”

Lip just sits there for a minute, blinking from Yves to the cup like she can’t decide who to blame.

Just when it seems like Lip might let it go, she dips her own finger into the drink. Swipes it across Yves’ forehead. And then they’re both scrambling for more sugary ammo, leaving Haseul to notice the manager frowning in the background.

That won’t do. Amusing as this impromptu food fight is, she will not be banned from her favorite spot. 

She steals the cup away, puts on her best scolding face. 

“Now, now. Behave, children.”

They turn to her, identical pouts.

“She started it,” Lip grumbles. “I mean. Sorry.”

At which point Haseul adds her own foam swipe to Lip’s other cheek. 

“Needed balance.” 

Yves bursts out laughing, which makes Lip frown as hard as she can. Except it doesn’t stick: Haseul watches Yves’ humor spread to Lip, who loses her battle against a begrudging smile.

It’s a nice image, the two of them laughing. They look good as a pair, like they belong in the frame together, and somehow that thought doesn’t make Haseul jealous. 

At the back of her mind, an idea starts to take shape. 

;;

Haseul talks a lot. 

Lip likes it, most of the time – it takes the pressure off her when meeting new people, and she can’t imagine a Haseul who isn’t overfull with words, always itching to let a few out.

Lip likes it, except. There are moments when Haseul really should shut up. 

For example, when Haseul’s stripping off Lip’s shirt and kissing Lip’s neck turns into rambling about how pretty Yves is. 

“Can you not do that,” Lip says, arousal spiking in a way she very much does not want to deal with. 

“What, our neighbor’s so sexy. You can’t say I’m ruining the mood.” 

Lip shifts uncomfortably, because she never wants to stop for a chat when Haseul’s started doing things but especially not when it’s about their next door neighbor. Who can probably hear them through the wall, if she’s in her bedroom. 

“I guess,” Lip says.

“I guess,” Haseul parrots. “Come on, I refuse to be dating someone who can’t see that Yves is gorgeous. It reflects badly on your taste, which reflects badly on me.”

“Yes fine she’s gorgeous, now can you get back to…that.”

“Someone’s impatient tonight.” Haseul moves her hand up Lip’s thigh, pressing into the muscle. “Do you think Yves likes impatient.”

“Haseul!” Lip yelps, but it’s too late. Yves is there with them in her mind, scolding Lip for her rush with a wicked grin. 

“Wait,” Haseul says, pulling back to survey the state Lip's in. “You’re into this, aren’t you.”

“I didn’t mean to be! I’m so sorry, I swear I’d never cheat on you.”

There’s a long moment where Lip and Haseul look at each other. Lip imagines a dozen catastrophic futures: Haseul cries. Haseul breaks up with her. Haseul maims her, even, and she’s not sure how something out of a period war film snuck in, but such is the extent of Lip’s panic that right now it seems like a totally reasonable reaction. 

Then Haseul says:

“What’s she doing?”

“What?”

“You’re thinking about Yves doing something. I want to know what.”

“She’s…are we really going to do this?”

Haseul shrugs a shoulder.

“We don’t have to. But it seems like you’d enjoy it, and I’m up for anything once. We can always stop and pretend it never happened if it gets too weird.”

Lip trusts Haseul with everything. So, looking into warm brown eyes, she stops holding the images back.

“She’s holding me down,” Lip starts, and Haseul reaches for her wrists. 

With Yves in her mind and Haseul between her legs, Lip comes harder than she has in a long time. 

;;

Something is up with the neighbors.

At first Yves thinks she’s imagining it, the way Lip in particular draws back from her. People forget to reply to messages, after all, and maybe the world just hasn’t crossed their paths for a while. 

But then she’s checking the mail in the lobby and Lip appears.

Ducks behind a column as Yves starts to wave. Hides there until Yves heads up the stairs. 

There’s no way to spin that: Lip is avoiding her, and doing it so badly Yves would laugh if it weren’t for the sinking feeling in her stomach. 

She’d thought they were all friends now, her and Haseul and Lip. Especially Lip, who was on her way to becoming the person Yves could text whenever about whatever. It was nice, having someone to argue with about what cookie is the best when she’d been working for twelve hours straight and her brain could not handle another calculation. 

Lip was simple, fun, uncomplicated. Except now Yves has done something to break that, leaving a ravenous unease in the place of contentment. 

This has to be her fault, Yves knows. Something had to give her away, because though she’s happy with friends she still thinks about more.

With both of them. 

Which means Lip has an abundance of reasons to hate her: for being creepy toward her, for trying to steal her girlfriend. Yves isn’t sure which is worse. 

After a week of wondering what she did wrong, whether she can fix it, Yves decides she needs a distraction. She’s already spent more mental energy on Lip than she did several long-term girlfriends. Which is a problem in itself. 

So she downloads Tinder, halfheartedly messages a few matches. 

A cute redhead invites her for drinks. Yves feels reasonably sure that’s not code for "you’re about to get murdered," so she says yes.

Vivi turns out to be great: pretty and funny, just mean enough that Yves goes straight to saying what she thinks instead of tiptoeing around with the fake politeness of so many first dates. 

And yet, Yves’ mind wanders. There’s nothing not to like about Vivi, but Yves can’t imagine liking her for real.

At the end of the night, Vivi walks Yves back to her building.

“Don’t think I’m going out of my way for you,” Vivi says with a grin. “I’m just a few blocks from here.”

“Well, I was about to swoon at the chivalry but I’ll hold that back now.”

Vivi laughs, and Yves gets annoyed at herself for being about to end this before it can start. Vivi would be great to have around, not least at work functions, where Yves is the one queer single in a sea of straight married-with-childrens. She could use a stable plus one for reinforcements alone. 

But she’s tired of relationships that aren’t going to work, and it’s not fair to start a new one if she can’t fully give herself to it. 

She takes Vivi’s hand. 

“This was lovely. But, I don’t think we should do it again. I’m sorry, I just-”

“You’re too infatuated with someone else to notice me.” Yves’ mouth drops open, and Vivi laughs. “Sorry, did you think you were subtle? You mentioned your neighbors fifty times tonight.”

“I did?”

Vivi squeezes Yves’ hand, and of course her skin is perfectly soft. 

“You did. Anyway. Do I get to come up?”

“But you just said.”

Vivi shrugs.

“The fact that you’re brooding about someone else means I’m not going to date you. You’re still hot, though.”

Yves blinks at her. Then opens the door, because really you can’t fault that logic.

;;

Ok, Haseul thinks. This has gone on long enough.

Lip is staring sadly at her phone again, sighing like a teenager who didn’t get a text from her crush.

Which is absurd, because they haven't been teenagers for a long time and Lip is supposed to be in a happy relationship. With Haseul, no less, who sits a foot away from her on the same couch.

“Hey,” Haseul says. “Should we talk about it?”

Lip fumbles with her phone, turning it face down and hiding it under a pillow for good measure. 

“Talk about what? There’s nothing to talk about. Nope, not a thing.”

Haseul wants to roll her eyes – it’s a good thing she isn’t with Lip for her smoothness – but this is going to be hard enough without antagonizing. So, Haseul says:

“Remember why we don’t lie to each other?”

Lip sighs, shoulders deflating.

“Because it’s bad and also it doesn’t work. We know each other too well.”

“Right. So, will you tell me why you’ve been staring at Yves’ contact screen?”

“I just…haven’t known how to talk to her. Since that night. So I haven’t talked to her at all, and I feel guilty but now it’s been way too long to just say hi without an explanation and I don’t know. I’m not even sure if I should talk to her because if this is bothering me this much maybe I do like her and I’m terrified of what that means because I can’t lose you.”

It all comes out in a rush, like air escaping a balloon. By the end Lip is wringing her hands in her lap, anxiety clear in every movement. 

Haseul stills them, curling her fingers around Lip’s.

“First off, you won’t lose me. I won’t let that happen.” Lip finally meets her eye, and Haseul aches at the worry she sees. “Second, I’m sorry. I had a hunch about your feelings but I didn’t think about what that night would do to you. And it looks like I pushed you into something you regret.”

“Hey, no. I like that you push me to do things.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. Otherwise I’d be so boring. And I don’t know if I regret it, exactly? It was hot, I just don’t want my feelings to cause problems for us.”

Haseul chews on her lip, wondering if she’s about to make things better or worse. Decides honesty is the right move, regardless of what happens. 

“It’s not just your feelings.” 

“What?”

Haseul feels heat creep up her neck; she always likes talking about other people more than herself, but it wouldn’t be fair to keep this hidden. 

“I don’t know her as well as you do, but I’ve also had. Thoughts. A few times.”

Lip smiles like this is the best news she’s ever heard.

“That changes everything! I was freaking out because I thought it was just me. But now we can do something about this.”

Haseul raises an eyebrow.

“Do you want to do something about it?”

“Maybe? Don’t you? Yves did ask me out, so pretty sure she’d be game.”

Haseul hmms, and then discussion gets sidetracked because her stomach growls too loudly to ignore, reminding them both that there’s no food in the house. 

“I’ve gotten groceries the past month,” Lip says, and she must be feeling better because it's a petulant whine. “This time it’s your turn.”

So Haseul finds a jacket and goes to the store, noting with displeasure that an entire team’s worth of soccer moms have brought their children at this exact moment. 

By the time she gets back to their building, she’s frazzled and tired, too-full bags threatening to spill from her arms. 

And then she sees something that gives her a shot of adrenaline: Yves kissing a woman at her apartment’s door.

The woman wears rumpled going-out clothes, has clearly spent the night, and though their kiss is short it’s not hesitant: they’ve done that before, at least a few times, and the thought sends something unpleasant skittering through Haseul.

A bag slips from her grasp, scattering vegetables all over the hall.

Yves looks over. Haseul looks down, feeling caught.

Thankfully she has a task to distract her: corralling her groceries. She’s halfway through reassembling the bag when a hand appears in her field of vision, offering up a garlic bulb.

“This was trying to escape,” Yves says, smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Thought you might want it back.”

“Thanks.”

Yves helps with the rest of the groceries. Haseul can’t figure out what to say – can barely look at Yves, stuck on the fact that that conversation with Lip won’t matter at all if Yves has found herself someone else. 

It surprises Haseul, how disappointed she is. She doesn’t have a right to be jealous but it’s there nonetheless, confirming once and for all her interest in Yves. She’s sad for Lip but it’s more than that: given how bad this feels, there’s no question that Haseul has feelings too. 

“Was that your girlfriend?” she says, after thinking it so many times she can’t hold it back anymore. 

Yves looks startled. 

“Uh, no. Just a one time thing.” Haseul is so relieved she almost misses the next sentence. “Which is a shame, because I have a work party on the 30th and maybe a girlfriend would keep married men from hitting on me.”

“Is someone giving you trouble?”

The thought of a coworker taking advantage of Yves’ activates Haseul’s _must take care of you_ instinct. She’s suddenly confident, on solid ground, and willing to run over anyone who’s causing problems for Yves. 

“It’s mostly fine,” Yves says. “It just sucks being alone, sometimes.”

And there it is: a perfect opening, dropped from the heavens. 

Haseul hesitates for a moment because it’s not small thing, reshaping a relationship that’s already good. Making space for a person who may not even want it.

But then Haseul has always loved the unknown. If Lip worries through every possible contingency, Haseul will jump off a cliff and only wonder mid-air if maybe that wasn’t the best decision. It's who she is; it's why she and Lip work. 

So Haseul says:

“Would a date help? I’m out of town, but Lip could come with you.”

Yves runs a hand through her hair. Awkward and unsure.

"It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but. Would Lip even want to go? I haven’t seen her much lately."

Which means Yves has noticed Lip's avoidance. Has been hurt by it, judging by the tension in her voice. 

Haseul puts a hand on Yves' arm. Notices Yves fixating on the point of contact. 

“She had some stuff to work out, but she does, believe me. You don't have to be alone.”

**Author's Note:**

> twt: [@leaderline97](https://twitter.com/leaderline97)  
cc: [@leaderline97](https://curiouscat.me/leaderline97)


End file.
